


Gentle Giant

by Gautiers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Post-War, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gautiers/pseuds/Gautiers
Summary: After spending nearly three weeks in Fhirdiad at King Dimitri's side to help pen and enforce new trading laws, Dedue finally returns to Garreg Mach, where a lonely wife eagerly awaits his return. **Edit 12/10/19: I've added a smut version of this fic as chapter 2. Tags have been changed accordingly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just your typical bydue fluff. they missed each other. non-explicit implied sex at some point. not beta-read yet, but will be, so you might see that come up? enjoy!!

After spending nearly three weeks in Fhirdiad at King Dimitri's side to help pen and enforce new trading laws, Dedue finally returns to Garreg Mach, where a lonely wife eagerly awaits his return. 

Byleth knows that if she cannot find Dedue in the Captain's office, in the kitchens, or in their quarters, then he is in the greenhouse tending to his plants. He adores them greatly, and it is part of his daily routine to ensure they are attentively cared for, even when his day has been long and he looks like a man sleeping on his feet.

It’s a quiet evening at the monastery, the air damp with rain from the morning. Students smile and exchange pleasantries with her as she makes her way to the one place she knows her husband will be. There’s a strong sense of eagerness in her, but she remembers her position as the Archbishop and contains herself, though with great difficulty.

Inside the greenhouse is even more humid with the thick scent of moss and foliage filling her nose. She rounds the corner and finds Dedue hunched over, carefully patting down soil on his beloved Duscurian flowers, something he’d acquired on a spontaneous trip back to his homeland some time ago.

“Welcome home, husband,” she murmurs, gently touching his back and crouching beside him. 

Dedue pauses and looks at her, grey eyes glittering in the evening light. There’s a slight smile on his lips as he leans forward to meet his forehead to hers. “I’m home, wife.”

Byleth continues to watch while Dedue works. He’s slow, but meticulous, a reflection of his care and respect for the little seedlings of life. Byleth also notices with extreme embarrassment that he acts the same way in the bedroom -- slowly, attentively, reverently. It's as if she is one of his flowers. 

“Is something wrong?”

Dedue is staring at her, eyes scanning her face. “You’re very red.”

She immediately looks away, unable to hold his gaze. What would he think if he knew what exactly is on her mind? That his absence fueled her longing and desire? That she is craving more than his chaste touches and loving stares? He must be tired, and intimacies most likely are the last thing on his mind after such a long trip, so she makes a feeble excuse and hopes with all her heart that he doesn’t look any closer. “I think it’s just the sun making me look red.”

He reaches to touch her face, but pauses before pulling back. “You’ve been in good health while I’ve been away?”

Nodding, she picks at a loose thread on her robe. "I've just missed you, is all." 

And she's missed him terribly. Their bed is not very spacious when it's the two of them, but alone, Byleth finds it rather large. Even his pillow, whose scent had long disappeared, could not give her comfort on the nights he was away. 

At her embarrassed confession, Dedue goes quickly to finish watering his plants, washes his hands, and offers an arm to his wife. "Let's go. I'll prepare dinner."

His abrupt behavior has Byleth mildly confused, but she happily rests her hand in the crook of his elbow regardless, a pleased smile turning the corner of her lips. “What will we have tonight?”

Dedue pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. 

“A surprise.”

•°.•○•.°•

Byleth is much more beautiful than Dedue remembers. She is usually the more forward of the two of them, but her recent display of shyness nearly melts the man into a puddle in that moment. It was more than the sunset flushing her skin -- he is much more perceptive than to let her throw him off. 

In the past few weeks, Dedue has been busy enforcing His Highness’s new trading laws at the borders, travelling as far as Gautier to speak with the Sreng regarding the new tariffs and enforced security. While it’s been a constant stream of tasks to accomplish, Dedue would find himself occasionally lost when the nights were long. They were stray thoughts that bugged him in the dark -- how is Byleth doing? Does she miss him as much as he misses her? Is she doing okay on her own? Admittedly, there were days where he wanted to pack up everything and return to Garreg Mach just to catch a glimpse of her face, but the wait was well worth it.

As soon as the door to their quarters closes, the knight drops all pretenses and takes his wife into his arms. She gasps in surprise, but soon melts into him, wrapping her small arms around his neck as he sweeps her off her feet. Dedue loves the breathy chuckle in his ear, the way she winds her legs around his torso and hangs onto him, and he simply bathes in her warmth and affection. 

“I’m so happy you’re home,” she sighs. 

His nose grazes softly against her neck as he nuzzles against her. “Me, too.”

Though reluctant to let go, Dedue relents after hearing Byleth’s stomach growl rather loudly. She immediately pulls away and wraps her arms around her belly, turning into a tomato. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

He’s absolutely slain by how adorable she is, though his face would never betray that. Instead, he chuckles and sets her down with a gentle kiss to her eyebrow. “Let’s eat.”

Dinner is simple. Byleth initially insists on cooking since he had just returned, but his desire to spoil her outweighs her own insistence. The savory stew he makes is a Duscurian recipe he learned from his mother. It's rich in flavor from the mix of spices he uses from his own garden, using tender cuts of Duscur bear, boiled potatoes, peas, and carrots, as well as a dash of pepper.

Beside him, Byleth watches intently, eyes glittering (and mouth watering). "Can I help with anything?"

Dedue knows this question is synonymous to, "Can I taste test?" since he's essentially finished cooking. In fact, her eyes are practically saucers as she stares at him.  _ How cute _ , Dedue thinks to himself.

Without a word, he gets a spoonful of the stew and brings it to Byleth’s lips, which she gladly accepts with relish. “I don’t know anyone who cooks better than you do, husband.”

“You exaggerate too much. Come, let’s eat.”

In comparison to the din in Fhirdiad’s dining hall, the peace and quiet of being home is welcoming for the knight, who listens as Byleth updates him on all the happenings at Garreg Mach. He notices that she is more animated when she talks and is no longer the impassive professor he’d met all those years ago. In a way, she reminds him of baby’s breath -- it’s a delicate flower, not one that stands out, but resilient and beautiful nonetheless. She accentuates the best in those around her, and helps bring about their natural beauty. Even himself, when he was but a young, brooding teen who had been nothing but cold to her.

Dedue recalls all those days spent in the greenhouse like they were just yesterday. He remembers when Byleth started visiting him there, and initially wanted nothing to do with her. The more bonds he formed, the more he had to lose, and he’d have to relive each loss anew -- it was that simple. But she was persistent, scaling wall after wall with ease. No matter how cold he was, no matter how few words he spoke, she treated him as she did anyone else. He found himself charmed, and then he was married. The world worked in strange, strange ways.

“--due. Dedue?”

He snaps to attention, surprised. “Yes?”

Byleth is standing right beside him with a hand on his forehead, her voice concerned. “You disappeared for a moment there. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, forgive me. I was only reminiscing.”

She lets out a breath of relief, sliding her hand down to his cheek. “Good, I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

Her touch is gentle against his face, a sensation he’s missed immensely. Dedue can sense her leaning in for a kiss even before she moves, and the air between them changes slightly into something a little sweeter and more romantic. He’s met with soft warmth against his lips as he closes his eyes, and something like a knot unties within him. He’s finally home, where he should be. 

When Byleth finally pulls away, he gazes straight into her eyes and sees how amorous she is. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are full and an enticing shade of pink. All he wants is to kiss her again, but she tugs gently on his hand. “Should we take a bath?”

“...Together?”

She nods, flushed.

“Oh.”

He knows this will not be good for his heart, but who is he to refuse his wife when she asks as shyly as she did? 

•°.•○•.°•

Admittedly, this is more than what Byleth had intended. The longer she spends with him, the closer she wants to be, and while this hasn’t been the first time they’ve bathed together, it certainly is the first time in a  _ long _ time since they have.

Dedue is already soaking in the bath by the time Byleth enters. Even if his lower half is submerged, she’s always floored by how handsome he is. It’s as if he’s sculpted straight from the rich clay of Duscur himself. 

It takes a moment for her to adjust to the temperature of the spring water, but she sighs beatifically when she’s finally in. 

“You’re sitting rather far away.”

It's a simple statement, one Byleth is all too aware of. Even if they had gone through a war together, matters of intimacy and skin still has her nervous. 

“Byleth?” 

Dedue is holding a hand out to her. She shyly takes it and allows him to settle her between his legs. Everywhere they touch is hotter than the bathwater they’re in; Byleth has to resist the urge to squirm. 

“There’s no need to force yourself to stay if you wish to leave.” His voice reverberates deeply in the walls of the bath house.

“Ah, no, I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes, turning towards him, but she underestimates just how close they are, and she’s face to face with overwhelmingly broad shoulders, sculpted cheekbones, and steely grey eyes that always steals her breath one way or another. Water clings to russet skin that’s diffuse with a steamy blush beneath, just as his gaze clings to her naked form. 

Byleth quickly spins back around. “Sorry,” she mumbles again. “I’m a bit...nervous. It’s been some time since we did this and -- !”

A strong arm wraps around her waist and pulls her even closer, and when Dedue speaks again, his lips and voice tickle her ear. “You are not the only one nervous.” He nuzzles against her cheek, his fingers lacing between hers beneath the water. “However, I just want to be near you.”

The words go straight to her heart, making it squeeze so sweetly and so painfully, she stops breathing. How can one man be so devoted to her comfort? Make her so utterly weak?

She turns in his arms once more and brings his hand to her lips. “I want to be near you, too.”

“Byleth…”

There’s a moment of stillness between them as they look into each others’ eyes -- even the drops of water seem to be holding still with bated breath. With a last touch to his lips, Byleth kisses him eagerly and enthusiastically, finally allowing herself indulge in her husband.

His lips feel hot against hers, and their kisses echo loudly in her ears. His hands are gentle, but they feel as though they’re everywhere against her. She’s dizzy, though she’s unsure if it is from the kisses or the heat of the bath.

“Dedue,” she sighs, shivering as his lips travel down her neck and his hands hold her tight against him. “To the bed...”

•°.•○•.°•

The light of a new dawn shining through the window of their quarters stirs the knight into wakefulness. Dedue rubs the sleep from his eyes and enjoys the sore ache in his muscles, one of the few remnants of a long, blissful, and ardent night. Beside him, Byleth sleeps soundly, her bare shoulder rising and falling with every breath she takes. He takes a moment to admire her while she’s unguarded and memorize what he can before he’s deployed again in the name of his king.

As a child, Dedue had always thought he’d marry a woman of Duscur heritage, raise a family with her, and take over his father’s blacksmithing work. If his younger self could see him now, what would he say? To think he would be married to the Archbishop of the  _ country _ \-- well, it is quite unreal.

And she is his wife. His wife, his love, how in the Gods’ name had he found such a ray of light in his bleak life? He knows what it is to lose everything he loves and what it means to find something special to him. This monastery, his home, he could lose it all one day at the hands of another, never see or hear or feel it again. The thought of it terrifies him, but the joy he feels outweighs that fear. For now, he can bask in this safety and in this love that he’s found, unapologetically. 

Dedue allows his eyes to roam what bare skin of Byleth’s is exposed to the morning air. The dark marks across her ample chest, passionate blooms he’d left in the heat of passion, are stark contrasts against her pale skin that he hopes will remind her of him when she sees them. Her lashes are nearly white in the light of the sun, and her lips, small and soft and utterly delightful, are slightly parted as she sleeps blissfully. The man is unable to control himself as he runs a gentle thumb across to admire their pliancy and color. 

That is, until she playfully bites the finger.

Nearly jumping out of the sheets in surprise, Dedue attempts to pull back his thumb, however she only bites down harder and stares at him with sleepy eyes.

“Have you been awake long?”

Byleth releases him, then moves closer to his body to intertwine her legs with his and snuggle closer to his chest. “Not really,” she yawns, “I just felt you moving, and I woke up.” 

He pulls the blankets higher above them and cradles his wife in his arms. “I apologize for that.”

“Perhaps I’ll forgive you if you stay a little longer with me.”

A small smile pulls at his lips as he tucks her head beneath his chin. “A request I’m willing to indulge for you, wife.”


	2. Gentle Giant ; Revised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the smut! do go easy on me, i'm not as experienced in writing sex...

After spending nearly three weeks in Fhirdiad at King Dimitri's side to help pen and enforce new trading laws, Dedue finally returns to Garreg Mach, where a lonely wife eagerly awaits his return. 

Byleth knows that if she cannot find Dedue in the Captain's office, in the kitchens, or in their quarters, then he is in the greenhouse tending to his plants. He adores them greatly, and it is part of his daily routine to ensure they are attentively cared for, even when his day has been long and he looks like a man sleeping on his feet.

It’s a quiet evening at the monastery, the air damp with rain from the morning. Students smile and exchange pleasantries with her as she makes her way to the one place she knows her husband will be. There’s a strong sense of eagerness in her, but she remembers her position as the Archbishop and contains herself, though with great difficulty.

Inside the greenhouse is even more humid with the thick scent of moss and foliage filling her nose. She rounds the corner and finds Dedue hunched over, carefully patting down soil on his beloved Duscurian flowers, something he’d acquired on a spontaneous trip back to his homeland some time ago.

“Welcome home, husband,” she murmurs, gently touching his back and crouching beside him. 

Dedue pauses and looks at her, grey eyes glittering in the evening light. There’s a slight smile on his lips as he leans forward to meet his forehead to hers. “I’m home, wife.”

Byleth continues to watch while Dedue works. He’s slow, but meticulous, a reflection of his care and respect for the little seedlings of life. Byleth also notices with extreme embarrassment that he acts the same way in the bedroom -- slowly, attentively, reverently. It's as if she is one of his flowers. 

“Is something wrong?”

Dedue is staring at her, eyes scanning her face. “You’re very red.”

She immediately looks away, unable to hold his gaze. What would he think if he knew what exactly is on her mind? That his absence fueled her longing and desire? That she is craving more than his chaste touches and loving stares? He must be tired, and intimacies most likely are the last thing on his mind after such a long trip, so she makes a feeble excuse and hopes with all her heart that he doesn’t look any closer. “I think it’s just the sun making me look red.”

He reaches to touch her face, but pauses before pulling back. “You’ve been in good health while I’ve been away?”

Nodding, she picks at a loose thread on her robe. "I've just missed you, is all." 

And she's missed him terribly. Their bed is not very spacious when it's the two of them, but alone, Byleth finds it rather large. Even his pillow, whose scent had long disappeared, could not give her comfort on the nights he was away. 

At her embarrassed confession, Dedue goes quickly to finish watering his plants, washes his hands, and offers an arm to his wife. "Let's go. I'll prepare dinner."

His abrupt behavior has Byleth mildly confused, but she happily rests her hand in the crook of his elbow regardless, a pleased smile turning the corner of her lips. “What will we have tonight?”

Dedue pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. 

“A surprise.”

•°.•○•.°•

Byleth is much more beautiful than Dedue remembers. She is usually the more forward of the two of them, but her recent display of shyness nearly melts the man into a puddle in that moment. It was more than the sunset flushing her skin -- he is much more perceptive than to let her throw him off. 

In the past few weeks, Dedue has been busy enforcing His Highness’s new trading laws at the borders, travelling as far as Gautier to speak with the Sreng regarding the new tariffs and enforced security. While it’s been a constant stream of tasks to accomplish, Dedue would find himself occasionally lost when the nights were long. They were stray thoughts that bugged him in the dark -- how is Byleth doing? Does she miss him as much as he misses her? Is she doing okay on her own? Admittedly, there were days where he wanted to pack up everything and return to Garreg Mach just to catch a glimpse of her face, but the wait was well worth it.

As soon as the door to their quarters closes, the knight drops all pretenses and takes his wife into his arms. She gasps in surprise, but soon melts into him, wrapping her small arms around his neck as he sweeps her off her feet. Dedue loves the breathy chuckle in his ear, the way she winds her legs around his torso and hangs onto him, and he simply bathes in her warmth and affection. 

“I’m so happy you’re home,” she sighs. 

His nose grazes softly against her neck as he nuzzles against her. “Me, too.”

Though reluctant to let go, Dedue relents after hearing Byleth’s stomach growl rather loudly. She immediately pulls away and wraps her arms around her belly, turning into a tomato. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”

He’s absolutely slain by how adorable she is, though his face would never betray that. Instead, he chuckles and sets her down with a gentle kiss to her eyebrow. “Let’s eat.”

Dinner is simple. Byleth initially insists on cooking since he had just returned, but his desire to spoil her outweighs her own insistence. The savory stew he makes is a Duscurian recipe he learned from his mother. It's rich in flavor from the mix of spices he uses from his own garden, using tender cuts of Duscur bear, boiled potatoes, peas, and carrots, as well as a dash of pepper.

Beside him, Byleth watches intently, eyes glittering (and mouth watering). "Can I help with anything?"

Dedue knows this question is synonymous to, "Can I taste test?" since he's essentially finished cooking. In fact, her eyes are practically saucers as she stares at him.  _ How cute _ , Dedue thinks to himself.

Without a word, he gets a spoonful of the stew and brings it to Byleth’s lips, which she gladly accepts with relish. “I don’t know anyone who cooks better than you do, husband.”

“You exaggerate too much. Come, let’s eat.”

In comparison to the din in Fhirdiad’s dining hall, the peace and quiet of being home is welcoming for the knight, who listens as Byleth updates him on all the happenings at Garreg Mach. He notices that she is more animated when she talks and is no longer the impassive professor he’d met all those years ago. In a way, she reminds him of baby’s breath -- it’s a delicate flower, not one that stands out, but resilient and beautiful nonetheless. She accentuates the best in those around her, and helps bring about their natural beauty. Even himself, when he was but a young, brooding teen who had been nothing but cold to her.

Dedue recalls all those days spent in the greenhouse like they were just yesterday. He remembers when Byleth started visiting him there, and initially wanted nothing to do with her. The more bonds he formed, the more he had to lose, and he’d have to relive each loss anew -- it was that simple. But she was persistent, scaling wall after wall with ease. No matter how cold he was, no matter how few words he spoke, she treated him as she did anyone else. He found himself charmed, and then he was married. The world worked in strange, strange ways.

“--due. Dedue?”

He snaps to attention, surprised. “Yes?”

Byleth is standing right beside him with a hand on his forehead, her voice concerned. “You disappeared for a moment there. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, forgive me. I was only reminiscing.”

She lets out a breath of relief, sliding her hand down to his cheek. “Good, I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

Her touch is gentle against his face, a sensation he’s missed immensely. Dedue can sense her leaning in for a kiss even before she moves, and the air between them changes slightly into something a little sweeter and more romantic. He’s met with soft warmth against his lips as he closes his eyes, and something like a knot unties within him. He’s finally home, where he should be. 

When Byleth finally pulls away, he gazes straight into her eyes and sees how amorous she is. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are full and an enticing shade of pink. All he wants is to kiss her again, but she tugs gently on his hand. “Should we take a bath?”

“...Together?”

She nods, flushed.

“Oh.”

He knows this will not be good for his heart, but who is he to refuse his wife when she asks as shyly as she did? 

•°.•○•.°•

Admittedly, this is more than what Byleth had intended. The longer she spends with him, the closer she wants to be, and while this hasn’t been the first time they’ve bathed together, it certainly is the first time in a  _ long _ time since they have.

Dedue is already soaking in the bath by the time Byleth enters. Even if his lower half is submerged, she’s always floored by how handsome he is. It’s as if he’s sculpted straight from the rich clay of Duscur himself. 

It takes a moment for her to adjust to the temperature of the spring water, but she sighs beatifically when she’s finally in. 

“You’re sitting rather far away.”

It's a simple statement, one Byleth is all too aware of. Even if they had gone through a war together, matters of intimacy and skin still has her nervous. 

“Byleth?” 

Dedue is holding a hand out to her. She shyly takes it and allows him to settle her between his legs. Everywhere they touch is hotter than the bathwater they’re in; Byleth has to resist the urge to squirm. 

“There’s no need to force yourself to stay if you wish to leave.” His voice reverberates deeply in the walls of the bath house.

“Ah, no, I’m sorry,” she quickly apologizes, turning towards him, but she underestimates just how close they are, and she’s face to face with overwhelmingly broad shoulders, sculpted cheekbones, and steely grey eyes that always steal her breath one way or another. Water clings to russet skin that’s diffuse with a steamy blush beneath, just as his gaze clings to her naked form. 

Byleth quickly spins back around. “Sorry,” she mumbles again. “I’m a bit...nervous. It’s been some time since we did this and -- !”

A strong arm wraps around her waist and pulls her even closer, and when Dedue speaks again, his lips and voice tickle her ear. “You are not the only one nervous.” He nuzzles against her cheek, his fingers lacing between hers beneath the water. “However, I just want to be near you.”

The words go straight to her heart, making it squeeze so sweetly and so painfully, she stops breathing. How can one man be so devoted to her comfort? Make her so utterly weak?

She turns in his arms once more and brings his hand to her lips. “I want to be near you, too.”

“Byleth…”

There’s a moment of stillness between them as they look into each others’ eyes -- even the drops of water seem to be holding still with bated breath. With a last touch to his lips, Byleth kisses him eagerly and enthusiastically, finally allowing herself indulge in her husband.

His lips feel hot against hers, and their kisses echo loudly in her ears. His hands are gentle, but they feel as though they’re everywhere against her. She’s dizzy, though she’s unsure if it is from the kisses or the heat of the bath.

“Dedue,” she sighs, shivering as his lips travel down her neck and his hands hold her tight against him. “To the bed...”

•°.•○•.°•

Dedue can hardly contain himself at the inevitable prospect of finally burying himself deep within his wife and taking her pleasure as his own. He wastes little time in drying off their bodies; in fact, the bed wicks away more water than the towel he or Byleth uses.

“Beloved,” she whispers into his ear as he kisses along the smooth column of her neck, the hairs on his nape standing on end with how electrified they feel. It’s a pleasant and delectable tingle, and his mind clouds over with desire for the goddess -- his goddess -- in his arms. Days of dreaming, hours of yearning, all come down to this single, base moment, and Dedue utterly melts. Her skin is so hot from the bath, it nearly sears him as he presses her body into their mattress, melding the planes of their bodies into a single dimension, a unified entity. 

Byleth writhes against him and his painstakingly slow descent down to her breasts and abdomen. Her words come in staccato gasps, “Hurry, please,” and, “Dedue, more!” She gasps again, harsher this time, as he sucks and bites at the tender skin just beneath her nipple.

He gazes up at her with eyes laden with unbridled lust. “Patience,” he exhales, his breath ghosting over her nipple. “Let me have my way with you.” He takes the swollen bud between his teeth and gently rolls it, earning himself yet another gasp and a harsh buck against his chest. 

“Dedue!”

“Not yet.”

A reverent man, Dedue is, and he worships his wife graciously, attentively, sinfully. How far can he go before she comes apart? She is eager for him, wet and aching and begging for him as he continues to tend to her. When she is close, her legs shudder and tense, and he pulls away to relish her mewls of impatience. 

He kneels at the end of the bed with her legs, slender and beautiful, resting over his shoulders as he trails fire along the inside of her thighs with his lips. "You're more beautiful than when I left, wife." 

She shivers as his breath meets her core. "A-and you've become oddly slower in the days you've been gone, husband."

"No flower blooms instantly," he counters, pressing a kiss to the underside of her thigh. 

"It takes patience." He kisses the junction where her thigh joins her hip.

"Perseverance." He slides a thick finger along her inner folds.

"And dedication." He places his lips over her clit and sucks gently, Byleth's cry of surprise and pleasure making his cock ache insufferably as he pumps one, two, three fingers into her. She tightens around him as he curls his fingers, her voice a war between silence and expression while her knuckles whiten and fist themselves into the soaked sheets beneath them. 

She becomes undone because of him, and the thought alone is enough to make him come. He can feel how hard he is, knows that every instinct says to finally allow himself release, for it has been so long since being intimate with his wife and letting go of his inhibitions. 

Byleth’s breaths are shorter and harsher, and her legs and abdomen tense like a coil waiting to be sprung. Dedue pulls away one last time and climbs over her, peppering her with kisses as he returns to her lips. 

“You’re being awfully coy,” she mumbles, prettily flushed and petulant -- the man finds himself dazed for a moment before kissing her jaw and cheek.

“I only wish to make you feel good.”

“I’d feel better if you let me come.”

“And you will, I’ll be sure of it.” He kisses Byleth softly and gives her a small upturn of his lips. “May I?”

Her small hands wrap around his length and stroke him slowly. It takes every ounce of self-control to stop himself from spending across her belly. 

“Only if I can return the favor.”

•°.•○•.°•

Quick to flip the larger man onto his back, Byleth finds it is her turn to gift him with as much pleasure as he gave to her. Modesty has long since disappeared. Sweat trails along his rich skin as she runs a sole finger down his chest, allowing her nail to scrape over his nipple and over his ribs. He shudders pleasantly and rests a hand on her thigh. 

“Byleth, you don’t --”

“But I want to. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

She eyes him playfully, gently grinding down against his cock that lay thick and stiff between them and watches with utmost fascination at the way his throat bobs up and down as his head rolls back.

“...Anything for you, wife.”

_ An eye for an eye _ , she thinks as she slowly,  _ slowly _ wraps her fingers around his length and gently pumps him, alternating pressures and softly rubbing the head where his fluid leaks.

“Gods,” he groans, tensing beneath her. 

Byleth feels powerful having such control over her lover’s gratification. His brows are furrowed and his eyes have slid shut, his breathing deep and slow and controlled. Her husband, ever stoic and reasonable. 

She  _ wants  _ him to lose control. 

Repositioning herself so she now hovers over his shaft, she kisses and bites along his jaw and neck, just as he had done to her. “You are my keeper,” she reminds him, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. “My knight and my lover.”

He twitches in her grasp.

“My sun and my light.”

With deliberate intentions, she lowers herself onto him, feeling his cock enter and fill her. Dedue groans, long and low, and his hands, which had been still as she toyed with him, grip fiercely at her hips. 

Her voice comes as a breathy gasp. It had been some time since they last had sex, and she had forgotten just how large he was until now. 

“Byleth,” he huffs with worry in his eyes, attempting to lift her hips a little. “If I -- if it’s too much, we should --”

She shakes her head and tries to readjust herself. “No! No, I...I just need a moment. I’m sorry.”

“Ngh...don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for this.”

What feels like a painful eternity later, Byleth finally feels comfortable enough to move. She rocks her hips gingerly, testing the waters before fully submerging herself into a sea of bliss. Her husband hums his gratification and spreads her bottom a little more, as if to get closer, to bury himself deeper.

“I love you,” he whispers huskily, bucking his hips to match her pace.

Byleth moans as he hits a particularly sweet spot; her toes curl in response and her back arches erotically. “I love you, too, Dedue. I -- ah!”

In an instant, she is flat on her back again, and Dedue finds one of her hands to intertwine with his. The other finds her clit and rubs erratically as he drives into her without mercy, unable to contain himself longer. 

She nearly screams at the intensity, but bites her lip to stifle to urge, lest someone hears her as they wander through the halls. “Dedue,” she cries, “Dedue, Dedue!” 

The stimulation is too great; she’s right at the precipice, teetering over the edge of something utterly explosive. And then, with a single, perfectly-angled stroke, Byleth’s vision fades out, her voice lost in her throat as her body tenses and then melts, legs spasming and hips shuddering. A wave of heat washes over her as she comes down from her high. She barely registers Dedue’s release, and when her senses calm, they’re both gasping for air, slick with sweat, and tangled together.

He kisses her languidly -- the urgency from before sated and nowhere to be found. He whispers sweetly to her, pressing his lips to her cheek and brown and ear. “Thank you…”

•°.•○•.°•

The light of a new dawn shining through the window of their quarters stirs the knight into wakefulness. Dedue rubs the sleep from his eyes and enjoys the sore ache in his muscles, one of the few remnants of a long, blissful, and ardent night. Beside him, Byleth sleeps soundly, her bare shoulder rising and falling with every breath she takes. He takes a moment to admire her while she’s unguarded and memorize what he can before he’s deployed again in the name of his king.

As a child, Dedue had always thought he’d marry a woman of Duscur heritage, raise a family with her, and take over his father’s blacksmithing work. If his younger self could see him now, what would he say? To think he would be married to the Archbishop of the  _ country _ \-- well, it is quite unreal.

And she is his wife. His wife, his love, how in the Gods’ name had he found such a ray of light in his bleak life? He knows what it is to lose everything he loves and what it means to find something special to him. This monastery, his home, he could lose it all one day at the hands of another, never see or hear or feel it again. The thought of it terrifies him, but the joy he feels outweighs that fear. For now, he can bask in this safety and in this love that he’s found, unapologetically. 

Dedue allows his eyes to roam what bare skin of Byleth’s is exposed to the morning air. The dark marks across her ample chest, passionate blooms he’d left in the heat of passion, are stark contrasts against her pale skin that he hopes will remind her of him when she sees them. Her lashes are nearly white in the light of the sun, and her lips, small and soft and utterly delightful, are slightly parted as she sleeps blissfully. The man is unable to control himself as he runs a gentle thumb across to admire their pliancy and color. 

That is, until she playfully bites the finger.

Nearly jumping out of the sheets in surprise, Dedue attempts to pull back his thumb, however she only bites down harder and stares at him with sleepy eyes.

“Have you been awake long?”

Byleth releases him, then moves closer to his body to intertwine her legs with his and snuggle closer to his chest. “Not really,” she yawns, “I just felt you moving, and I woke up.” 

He pulls the blankets higher above them and cradles his wife in his arms. “I apologize for that.”

“Perhaps I’ll forgive you if you stay a little longer with me.”

A small smile pulls at his lips as he tucks her head beneath his chin. “A request I’m willing to indulge for you, wife.”


End file.
